


A Light Corrupted

by SilverJettStar



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Brainwashing, Corruption, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Feels, Gen, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Suicide, Mind Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Torture, Torture, Tragedy, light spoilers, no seriously the gore is kinda graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverJettStar/pseuds/SilverJettStar
Summary: An alternate storyline in which, following the battle in Altissia, Ardyn takes Noctis captive and tortures him in order to warp him into a weapon to use at his disposal, not unlike an MT.Written from both the perspectives of Noctis and Ignis, but doesn't perfectly alternate.





	1. Altissia

**Author's Note:**

> The following story is extremely graphic and features fairly dark themes, Noctis's chapters being the main culprits. I'll place warnings at the beginning of chapters where they apply as best I can. Please read at your own risk.   
> Thank you, and enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prior to Leviathan's awakening, Ignis and Noctis share one final conversation about the uncertainty of the following events, each giving the other hope and a promise before parting ways.  
> Time skips ahead, and Ignis is desperate to reach Noctis at the Altar of the Tidemother following his battle against Leviathan. However, Ignis can't seem to shake this pit in his stomach. He tries to ignore them, but every instinct he has says that something bad has happened.

I G N I S

* * *

 

“You sure you’ll be alright on your own, Noctis?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, no problem.”

“Noctis, be serious. This isn’t just one of our hunts, this is a _goddess_ that you’re likely going to have to fight.” 

“You think I don’t know that? Listen Igs, I don’t like this anymore than you do but… I’ve got no choice. Even without our agreement with Camelia, once that rite starts, I’d probably be on my own anyway.”

The Lucian prince sighed, leaning against a railing as he looked down at the open clearing in front of Altissia’s capital. A crowd had begun to gather, growing larger and denser by the second as they awaited the public appearance of the Oracle. Noctis and Ignis stood up a few levels above, on a bridge that crossed one of the city’s many canals that wove like spider webs through its structure. Gladio and Prompto had already left to prepare for evacuation and protection in their areas. Given that Ignis was in charge of helping evacuate the crowd as fast as he could, he had accompanied Noctis this far, however this bridge would be where they parted ways.

Brows furrowing, Ignis paused a moment to watch the prince, seeing the conflicting emotions in Noctis’s eyes. Most people found Noctis… difficult to read. The prince had a nasty habit of keeping a very tight grip on his emotions, keeping them to himself, bottling them up and never voicing them. But to Ignis, Noctis was an open book. As he should be, given how long Ignis had known him. He’d figured out each and every one of Noctis’s little quirks, able to read even the slightest expression change and know exactly how Noctis was feeling. “If you have concerns, you can voice them.”

“Of course I have concerns! Like you said, this is a goddess, and if I screw up, an entire city could be destroyed.” Noctis huffed. “We have no clue what Leviathan will do when Luna has awakened her, if I don’t do my job properly, she could lay waste to all of Altissia.” Noctis’s words roused a soft, low chuckle in Ignis’s chest. “What?”

“It’s just… the fact that your first concern is Altissia and its citizens rather than your own life… it’s very kingly of you.”

“Well… yeah, I’m scared for my life, but if I die, I’m not the one who has to deal with the consequences anymore.” Noctis sighed, fidgeting with his bangs a bit. “It’s not just about me. Countless lives rest on my shoulders and hinge on my success. It’s not just Altissia, it’s Lucis too. It’s just… a lot of weight to bear.”

“And yet I have full confidence that you will bear it just fine, Noctis,” Ignis gave a firm nod.

The prince arched a brow at him, allowing a brief expression of concern to cross his features— concern that Ignis was certain went much deeper than the Prince was allowing it to seem. “You think so?” He asked softly, as if ashamed to admit his doubts in himself.

“Of course,” Ignis nodded, leaning against the railing as well, adjusting his glasses. “You act lazy and uncaring, but when you set your mind to accomplishing something, I have yet to see you fail at it. I know you have doubts in your abilities, but I assure you, those doubts are misplaced. You are much stronger and much more capable than you think you are, Noctis.”

Noctis paused, looking at Ignis and giving a small chuckle, looking down to the growing crowd of people. “I… I dunno…”

“Noctis, have I ever led you astray?” Ignis asked, turning his head to make eye contact with the prince. “You know me. I tell you things exactly as they are— it’s not my job to baby you and feed you lies to make you feel good about yourself. As your advisor, it is my duty to tell you what is the truth.”

“No… I suppose you haven’t…”

“And have I ever been wrong?” 

“I mean—” Noctis paused, trying to recall if he ever had been. “Not that I can recall.”

“Exactly, because I’m _always_ right.” Ignis said with a teasing tone.

“Get outta here with that,” Noctis laughed lightly, giving Ignis a playful nudge. “Alright, alright, I get your point.”

“Have more faith in yourself, Noct,” Ignis put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight, comforting squeeze. “And if nothing else, know that _I_ have faith in you.”

Noctis slowly nodded, looking forward and taking a deep breath. “Yeah… alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” There was a brief pause, a silence before Noctis finally spoke again, “I should… probably head down, she’s giving her speech soon.”

“Indeed, and I should get to my position. Stay safe out there, Noctis.” Ignis stood upright, adjusting his jacket.

“You too Iggy.” Noctis said, rolling his neck a bit and starting to head across the bridge. About half way across, he paused, turning back to Ignis. “Hey! Ignis! Do me a favor and don’t die, alright?”

Ah. In true Noctis fashion, eh? Ignis gave a nod, calling back to him, “Only if you promise to do the same.”

And with that, the two parted, heading separate ways to fulfill their separate duties.

If only they had known that on that bridge, that would be the last time they spoke face to face for months.

 

 --------------------------------------------------

 

Ignis never liked confusion and chaos. Through the years, he had managed to find his ways to sift through it, to make the situations clear and concise. But… seeing the Hydraean erupt from the sea, seeing Noctis enshrouded in an ethereal blue glow, flying and warping around and attacking the goddess— it was admittedly a bit much for Ignis to keep his head on straight. He trusted Noctis— knew that Noctis was more than capable of rising to the task at hand. He was strong enough and he had the willpower, but a single slip-up could cost the prince his life, and the idea of that… terrified Ignis.

He cared for Noctis far more than he’d ever admit to anyone, even himself. Hence why his actions and movements had been far more frantic, far more… reckless than they normally would have as he scrambled through the ruined city of Altissia in his desperate attempts to reach Noctis at the Altar of the Tidemother.

“Prompto!” Ignis shouted into his phone as he scrambled onto a small speedboat. “Prompto, can you hear me?!”

“Yeah! But bar-ly!” Prompto’s voice came through the phone, garbled and made nearly unintelligible by static and crackle due to the presence of two Astrals’ powers scrambling cell signal.

“Where are you?” Ignis demanded, having to duck down to the floor of the boat as the Titan knocked another Imperial ship out of the air with a loud bellow, the god’s roar shattering the air alike a hammer to glass.

“Head-d to --- altar! Gla--o is w--h me, w-’re alm--t th-r-!”

“I’m headed there now! The Archaean can only hold off those ships for so long, be careful and stay safe!” Ignis ordered, turning on the boat and beginning to speed along the crystal blue water, towards the Altar and the Astral standing in front of it.

“Y-- too, Ig-y! W-’ll see y-- soon, o- LO-K O-T!” Prompto’s cry of shock was followed by the sound of machine gun fire, and promptly following, the signal cut out, the other line suddenly going dead.

“Prompto?! Prompto!” Ignis yelled, hissing in frustration as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He trusted they would be alright, and as much as he loved them— Noctis was of the utmost priority in that moment. Gladio and Prompto were /more/ than capable of handling themselves, they may get a bit banged up, but with Noctis in danger, there was no way that they would let themselves die before they saw him to safety.

The city of Altissia was left in ruins. The Oracle, Lunafreya, had awakened the long dormant goddess Leviathan, the goddess of the sea known for being wrathful and wickedly cruel. The Goddess had awakened in a rage, and had immediately set upon laying waste to the City on Water. Debris and rubble from ruined buildings were flying everywhere, and even with Noctis and Titan having defeated the Goddess, the whirlpool of water still surrounded the city, sending drops flinging everywhere like rain. The Archaean, Titan, god of the earth had erupted from the ground, standing between the Altar of the Tidemother and the countless imperial ships that were attempting to reach it. The Altar was bathed in a gentle golden glow— one that Ignis could only assume belonged to Lunafreya.

There was this pit in Ignis’s stomach, this sickened feeling as he sped towards the Altar. He could only hope that it was just worry for Noctis, that he would arrive and the Prince and the Oracle would be alright. Even if it was a foolish hope. Given the tragedies that had befallen prior—

 _No_. Noctis _had_ to be alright. Ignis needed to stop worrying, stop letting his mind wander, and just _reach_ him. He had to have faith.

Ignis was suddenly violently snapped out of his thoughts as the sounds of explosions suddenly tore through the air, Titan bellowing as he was pelted with missile after missile from the Imperial ships hovering in the air. The god reached up, swatting one of the ships that had fired the missiles out of the sky, sending it crashing down towards the waters below— _much_ too close to Ignis’s boat to be safe. The ship came crashing down into the water just a short distance away from Ignis, the impact sending water flying and creating a wave. Water sprayed, and the wave crashed into the side of Ignis’s boat with enough force to send the advisor flying out of the boat and crashing into the clear, ice-cold water.

The currents caused by the sinking ship almost immediately started dragging Ignis downwards. All he could see was blue, the water chilling him to the bone as bubbles rose all around him. For a brief moment, there was a flash of an image in his mind— the current dragging him lower and lower, further from the surface. He saw himself thrashing, desperately, but unable to reach the surface, unable to hold his breath any longer, he opened his mouth to gasp for air, only to intake water—

_Snap out of it, Ignis! Noctis needs you, you cannot let yourself die here, not like this!_

A rush of adrenaline coursed through Ignis’s veins as he thought of Noctis, the man he had spent his whole life protecting, comforting, supporting, getting to know. He remembered that child that had smiled as they shook hands, and he recalled all the times they had laughed together, the tears they had shed together, the trouble they had caused together. That feeling in his chest each and every time Noctis called him ‘Igs’ or ‘Iggy’, and—

_Hey! Ignis! Do me a favor and don’t die, alright?_

A fire ignited, burning brightly even submerged in the chilled water. Ignis made that promise to Noctis, a promise that no matter what, he would _not_ die.

And come hell or high water, Ignis would do everything in his power, fight against the whole world with every _ounce_ of his being to keep that promise.

He _had_ to see this out alive. He _had_ to see Noctis again.

That determination was like an electric jolt to Ignis’s body. Energy coursed through his system, and in that moment, he felt like he could take on an entire fleet of Imperial ships, so long as Noctis awaited him on the other side of them. Ignis started fighting against the current, gritting his teeth and pushing himself through the water, towards the surface. At first, the resistance was strong, like the gnarled hand of a sea witch reaching up from the depths and taking hold of Ignis, trying to drag the advisor down, down, down to the cold and watery depths of death. But Ignis resisted her grip. Ignored the siren’s song that tried to call him to his death in the ache of his already exhausted muscles as he tried to fight his way upwards, begging to be allowed to rest. He would not rest, he would not falter.

He would not die. Not here.

Finally, Ignis managed to escape the current, breaking the surface of the water and erupting out with a desperate gasp for air, not giving himself even a single heartbeat of rest as he looked around for the boat he had been on. Water droplets speckled his glasses— which had somehow managed to stay in place upon his face, a loud ringing in his ears. Between the adrenaline pumping in his veins, the panic in his chest, the disorienting switch from water to air, the ringing in his ears, and the obstruction of his vision via the droplets on his glasses, Ignis was a bit disoriented at first, and with the constant bobbing up and down of the water, it was difficult to get his bearings completely. He needed to get atop something solid, set his feet upon something firm, then perhaps he could get the world to stop spinning and reeling. Seeing the boat bobbing in the water just a short distance away — thankfully, still upright rather than capsized — Ignis took a breath and began swimming towards it.

His fingers grasped onto the handle on the side of the black boat, and pushing himself around to the back of the small speedboat, Ignis hefted himself up onto it, a gasp of relief as he felt the firmness of the floor against his hands. Finally, he allowed himself a moment to collect himself, removing his glasses and doing his best to wipe them clean before sliding them back onto his face, pushing them up with his thumb as he pushed himself to his feet with his other hand. With his head mostly on straight, Ignis looked around to gauge the situation at hand.

Titan and the heavenly glow that once engulfed the Altar had disappeared, and most of the imperial ships seemed to be making a retreat, something that should have brought Ignis some semblance of comfort. However, all Ignis felt was this growing sense of dread, a hole opening up in his chest. Something was wrong— _very_ wrong. He had to get to the Altar, and he had to get there _now_.

Ignis scrambled to the helm of the speedboat, starting it back up and racing across the water, pushing the boat to go as fast as it physically could. For Ignis, that still wasn’t fast enough, the Altar was drawing close much too slow for his liking. Save for the sound of the boat’s engine and the thuds as waves hit the front of the boat, the air was… silent. Eerily so. The chaos and explosions from the battle had died, fallen completely silent, leaving the surrounding area sounding dead.

Ignis _hated_ that silence.

Pulling up to a platform just above the water’s surface that led up to the Altar, Ignis bothered not to tie up the boat, or even shut it off, leaping onto the stone and immediately taking off in a dead sprint up the stairs that led to the Altar. Each step, he took several steps at a time, his mind laser focused on reaching the top, not even registering the burning in his lungs or the ache in his legs.

_Please be alright, Noctis._

Just a few more steps— almost there— just a little further— there it is— 

Ignis was brought to a dead halt once he reached the top, breath wheezing out as he stared upon the bare Altar. 

There was no sign of the Prince or the Oracle. Ignis looked left, he looked right, he looked behind him. Nowhere. There wasn’t so much as a sign that they had ever even been here.

“NOCTIS!” Ignis yelled at the top of his lungs, unable to hide the desperation in his voice as he searched for the prince. He took several steps forward, once more halting as the sound of metal skidding across the stone below him caught his attention.

When he looked down, he saw the Ring of the Lucii, the drenched black metal shimmering in the Light. Breath catching in his throat, Ignis slowly leaned down and picked up the Ring, staring down at it in the palm of his hand. The Ring was supposed to be with Noctis, Luna was supposed to pass it on to him. So if the Ring was here, what did that mean for the Prince and the Oracle? Had they—?

“Ah! What a surprise finding you here!”

Ignis’s thoughts were cut short by a familiar voice in front of him— one that made his skin crawl. Ignis’s fingers clenched into a fist around the Ring, and he looked up to see Ardyn Izunia, the Chancellor of Niflheim standing in an Imperial ship that hovered some several feet above and away from the edge of the Altar. How Ardyn and the ship had managed to appear there without Ignis hearing it, Ignis had no idea. But Ardyn had this… dastardly smirk upon his features, and something in Ignis’s gut told him that _he_ was responsible for Noctis’s absence from the Altar.

“Where the _hell_ is Noctis?” Ignis demanded, glaring daggers at the Chancellor.

Ignis’s words brought an overdramatic gasp to the Chancellor’s lips, hand raising to place against his heart as he feigned shock, “Prince Noctis is _missing_? Oh dear, I do hope he’s alright, would you like me to help you look for him, Iggy?”

Ignis grit his teeth as Ardyn called him by the nickname Noctis had given him so long ago— one that Prompto and Gladio had picked up. “You have no right to address me as such, Ardyn. Quit playing your games, _where_ is he?!”

“Oh? Don’t I? And here I thought that you four and I made such _fast_ friends, I’m wounded, Ignis, truly, I am.” Ardyn tutted at him with a shake of his head, mauve locks bouncing ever so slightly with the motion. “Come now, that’s no way to speak to someone who was kind enough to take the liberty of ensuring your _dear_ prince wasn’t swept away by the currents, is it?” His words were almost a purr, an arrogant and knowing sneer upon his lips as he took several steps to the side, gesturing inside of his ship—

Where the collapsed Prince lay, previously concealed by Ardyn’s coat as he stood in front of him. Noctis was out cold, drenched, and deathly pale, laying on his side facing Ardyn and Ignis. Several MTs stood around him, guns in hand, almost as if they were guarding the prince. Ignis could _feel_ his heart stop, sinking in his chest.

“Noct—!” Ignis yelld, starting forward.

“Ah-ah!” Ardyn grinned, wagging a finger, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” his words were almost sing-songy as each of the MTs surrounding Noctis immediately readied their guns— all aiming at the prince.

Ignis stopped in his tracks, nails digging into his palm as he clenched his fists. No… this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be real—!

“Oh, my friend, you needn’t worry. You and the other two should enjoy your next few months of vacation, relax, enjoy yourselves,” Ardyn stepped forward in front of Noctis again, gesturing theatrically to himself and giving a slight bow by bending at the waist. “Allow _me_ to take on the honor of looking after our _dear_ _Prince Noctis_!” And with that, Ardyn turned his back to Ignis, the back hatch of the ship beginning to close, the engine kicking into gear and the ship beginning to rise in the air.

“no— NO! _NOCTIS!_ ” Ignis cried out, staggering a few steps forward and feeling… powerless. There was nothing he could do, nothing to stop the ship, nothing to stop Ardyn from making off with Noctis. Ignis was _forced_ to watch helplessly as the hatch closed with a click, and the ship hovered away, farther, farther, farther— Noctis trapped inside.

A sense of defeat and exhaustion washed over him, and his legs buckled beneath him, causing him to fall to his knees and stare off after the Imperial ship. Noctis was gone— the Empire now had him in their captivity— and Ignis had watched it happen, powerless to stop it. Ignis was supposed to _protect_ Noctis, that had been his whole life’s purpose up until now.

And he had failed.


	2. Unit Number 03741221

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weak and exhausted from the stress and exertion of fighting Leviathan, Noctis wakes up in a strange, metal cell, surrounded by the unnatural ambiance of an industrial setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: graphic descriptions of pain and torture.

N O C T I S

Day 1

* * *

 

Cold... it was so  _damn_ cold...

A soft groan slipped past the Prince's lips as he slowly started to regain consciousness. His muscles ached, and his head was throbbing. He was  _exhausted_ , drained from the battle against Leviathan. Fighting the Hydraean had sapped all of his energy. The last thing he remembered was this blue light engulfing his body. He hardly remembered the fight, he just remembered anger and desperation and the feeling of immense power coursing through his veins.

Noctis shivered slightly, pulling his arms in closer to his chest, wrapping them around himself. His clothes were still ever so slightly damp, and he was laying against something cold and hard. The smell of metal was strong in the air— an industrial and unnatural scent filling his nose as he slowly began to register the sound of distant machinery and metallic clanging. The faint hiss of the release of steam, the distant whirring of moving parts. A soft, near-methodical clicking noise, almost like the ticking of the clock and sounding like it  _should_ have had the same rhythm, yet each click was just slightly off beat as the time in between clicks varied ever so slightly. Sometimes the next click would happen a split second too soon, and others a split second too late. Sometimes two clicks would sound in immediate succession. It was eerie— almost demented. It was like there should have been an order and a rhythm to it, like it should have been methodical and controlled, but something had warped it— broken it somehow. Eyes slowly fluttered open, squinting as a bright light blinded him initially. He lifted his arm, using his hand to shield his eyes from the light as he slowly pushed himself into an upright sitting position. Where... the  _hell_ was he?

He was in some sort of... cell, laying on the metal floor in the dead center. Three of four walls were a dark, solid metal, bare and empty, and the fourth wall was made of cage-like metal bars. Through the bars was a long hallway, with several other cells lining the walls on either side, though aside from Noctis in his, each cell was empty. At the end of the hall was a pair of large white mechanical doors, the lights upon them a soft, glowing red. The air was cold, ominous and eerie, almost lifeless. It was unnatural, industrial, and it made Noctis feel queasy. Wherever this place was— it was dark, unwelcoming, and not a place Noctis wanted to be in for long.

Noctis slowly pushed himself to his feet, looking around, fighting the dizziness that washed over him as he stood. He probably shouldn't be pushing himself, his body was undoubtedly drained from how hard he had exerted himself during the battle, and needed time to recover. 

...right. As if relaxing and giving himself time to recover was even an option in this situation. Wherever he was, he was far from safe here, and he likely wouldn't be given any recovery time.

The Prince snapped to attention as there was a sudden metallic thud and a click coming from the cell door. The door had unlocked, and with a loud, slow, eerie creak, slid open. Noctis just stared at it a moment, brows slowly furrowing.

"ah, it seems our sleeping beauty has awoken, hasn't he?"  _Oh, g r o s s._ Ardyn's voice seemed to come from some sort of intercom system built into the dungeon, that low and gravely tone reverberating off the walls. Hearing that voice answered every single question Noctis had. 

He was in Niflheim.  _Where_ , exactly, was impossible to tell, but it didn't matter. Niflheim was Noctis's enemy, there was nowhere that he could be within Niflheim and be safe.  _Ardyn_ was Noctis's enemy, most of all. After what he did to Luna...

Noctis's jaw clenched tightly, and he remained standing firmly in place. It almost felt safer inside the cell. 

"oh, come now, Noctis. Surely you don't want to stay in that cramped little cell? I'm giving you the chance to leave! Just down the hall— you and I can meet up and have a little chat!" 

"Like hell," Noctis hissed, clenching his fists. "there won't be any chatting, if I see you, I'm going to kick your ass." 

Ardyn tutted at the Prince. "Now now, Noctis, that's no way to speak to someone who saved your life, is it? Had it not been for me, the tide would have surely swept you away, just as it did your poor Lady Lunafreya."

Noctis started to protest, but his words caught in his throat, a scowl twisting across his pristine features. 

"Now, do stop being so stubborn? I  _am_ giving you the chance to move freely, I wouldn't squander such a privilege in your position. I would so hate to have to send someone in to drag you out of there."

well... Noctis didn't seem to have very much of a choice in the matter, did he? "Bastard," he grumbled under his breath, turning his attention to the open door. Every instinct the prince had was screaming at him to not proceed, that danger awaited him on the other side of that door, just down the hall. Looming, waiting in the shadows. But staying would only likely increase that danger, and as weak as Noctis was, it was in his best interest to avoid angering or pushing Ardyn too far. Chances were that no matter what Noctis did, he would end up getting hurt— but if he had any say in it, it would most benefit him to take whichever path led to the least amount of suffering.

Slowly, Noctis stepped forward, guiding himself out of the cell, pausing to take a careful look around. Behind him, the door slammed shut, causing Noctis to jump slightly, taking several steps away from the door of the cell he had been kept in. Ardyn's pleased, almost victorious laugh echoed through the metal hall. Oh, how he was enjoying getting to toy with the Lucian prince, getting him to obey orders like some sort of dog in training.

"Now see, was that so hard?" Ardyn purred out. The white mechanical doors at the end of the hall of cells let out a beeping sound, beeping thrice in succession as their red light turned green. "I will await you just beyond those doors, your highness. Do be so kind as to not keep me waiting, it would be most unprofessional for a king to be late to a meeting."

Noctis's jaw clenched slightly, and he found it difficult to swallow, staring down the hall at the closed doors. What awaited him on the other side..? That uncertainty— that feeling, the feeling of not knowing what was coming but knowing that it couldn't be good. The anticipation, the fear, the feeling that his chest was constricting, twisting in on itself, like it was crushing his lungs and making it difficult to breathe, cutting off circulation and forcing his heart to beat faster and harder. His breath was shallow, shaky. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt like someone was beating a bass drum in his chest and he could hear it in his ears. The imagination— his mind thinking up worst-case scenarios, playing scenes of countless gruesome deaths that could await him on the other side like they were a slide show. Those feelings in and of themselves were torturous. The little kid inside of him wanted to curl up into a ball, hide in some corner— but that wasn't an option.

Noctis's only option was to walk forward.

Taking it slowly, step by step, Noctis approached the door. The sounds of the soles of his boots hitting the metal floor with each footstep seemed louder than they should have been— maybe it was because of how silent and empty this hall seemed despite the constant faint and distant mechanical sounds that filled the background. Sure, there was sound all around him. But within this hall, the only sounds were Noctis's footsteps, his breathing, and the pounding of his heart, and the silence of the rest of the room only amplified those sounds. As Noctis reached the door, the sudden whirring of the door sliding open almost made Noctis jump. He placed a gloved hand over his heart, taking a deep breath.

_Calm down, Noctis. You can do this. Stay strong._

The door opened up into what almost seemed like a security room, with monitors lining the walls and sitting upon desks. There were labels above certain clusters on the walls, such as "cell block A" and "cell block B", however the majority of the monitors that weren't pitch black or displaying static displayed the images of a single cell— the cell Noctis had been in, with varying angles peering from both within and from outside of the cell. Eerily, the monitors on the desk closest to Noctis displayed live images of Noctis where he stood, and as he stepped through the door and the door slid shut behind him, images that no longer had him in the shot switched to other cameras— presumably within the room— as if they were programmed to follow him specifically.

Ardyn stood in the middle of the room, with three MTs wielding guns standing in a triangular formation just behind him. His hands were perched at the bottom of his spine, one gently clasping the other in what was a deceivingly casual posture. His face bore a smug expression, the corner of his lips ever so slightly turned upwards in a smirk, a devilish and sadistic glint in his amber eyes as they made eye contact with Noctis's glacial blues. 

Lifting his hands, Ardyn gestured outwards, giving a mocking bow, "Ah, a good morning and warm welcome to you, your highness. I trust you slept well?"

"Skip the pleasantries, Ardyn," Noctis growled, somehow managing to keep his voice even despite the wavering of his breath. "the hell is this about?"

Ardyn gave a tsk, irritation flashing in his gaze for a moment before he regained composure of his jesterly facade. "Reckless as ever, I see. Do I really need to spell it out for you? You're smart, the pieces are all laid out for you, so put them together."

Noctis scowled. "And what exactly does Niflheim expect to do by keeping me prisoner? Why not just kill me?"

At Noctis's words, Ardyn let out a cruel laugh, "Niflheim? This has nothing to do with Niflheim, naught a single person other than me knows that you are here."

"...what..?"

"Do you really think I'd be so foolish as to turn the Crown Prince Noctis, the Chosen King of Light, over to the custody of that fool of an emperor? Nay, Noctis, this is not a matter of Niflheim and Lucis, it is not Niflheim that is holding you captive," Ardyn's lips curled up into a cruel grin, taking several sauntering steps towards Noctis, extending a gloved hand, fingers firmly taking hold of the prince's jaw. "it is I and I alone who is keeping you here, the matters that unfold are purely between the two of us."

Noctis felt his muscles tense as Ardyn grabbed him, having to resist the itch to smack his hand away. Be brave, be stern, stand tall. He forced himself to stay still, and his stern glare to never waver. Any action, any words at this point felt dangerous. The look in Ardyn's eye, the tone and the purr of his voice— he was trying to rouse a reaction, testing the waters, see how the Prince would react to his situation. And Noctis refused to give him the pleasure of getting that reaction.

Noctis's silence caused a low chuckle to rumble in the Chancellor's face, and he released his jaw, "what a brave face," he cooed, patting Noctis's cheek. Oh, how he couldn't wait to watch that face crumple with agony— "Come!" Ardyn spun around, gesturing Noctis to follow with the very hand he had just grabbed him with. "We have urgent matters to attend to, Noctis. I trust that you have a full grasp on your situation and won't try anything stupid—" his tone made it sound like he wished Noctis would, give him that opportunity, that excuse to punish and inflict pain upon the prince, "—but just to be safe, I brought a few of my puppets to keep you in your place."

With a flick of the Chancellor's hand, the MTs moved forward with synchronized steps, one standing behind Noctis and the other two standing on either side of him. As Ardyn moved forward, the MT at Noctis's back shoved him forward with its gun, giving Noctis no other choice than to follow Ardyn. Another white door opened for Ardyn, and the Chancellor led the prince down several long corridors, taking twists and turns to the point where Noctis lost his sense of direction. This place was like a maze— even if Noctis  _was_ dumb enough to attempt an escape, he likely wouldn't get far before getting lost. And with his enemy knowing the layout like the back of his hand— escape would be nearly impossible. 

Finally, Ardyn exited the halls by opening another white door, which opened up into a room only a tad bit smaller than the security room Noctis and Ardyn had left from. The sight of the room made Noctis stop in his tracks.

In the center of the room was a metal chair, with metal cuffs on the arm rests and legs. The chair was bolted to the ground, and looked as if it had just been painstakingly cleaned,  _just_ for Noctis. Chains and cuffs hung from the ceiling and lay on the floor, and the back wall was lined with every tool of torture that one could imagine. A variety of knives, pliers, hammers, whips, scissors. Blunt objects, sharp objects, objects that ripped and objects that flayed. As Noctis's gaze moved from left to right along the wall, the tools grew more advanced, more modern— tasers, nail guns, firearms. Resting on a table against that wall was a device Noctis didn't recognize, small, open rectangular device with moving parts, and a long, rod-like tool with a metal point that showed discoloration from repeated high temperatures. It almost reminded Noctis of a tattoo gun— hooked to a larger machine that would, rather than an artist, draw out and fill in the tattoo automatically.

The MT at Noctis's back harshly shoved him forward, causing him to stagger a few steps as the door shut behind them. Ardyn headed straight for the machine on the table, flicking his hands at the MTs, which immediately shouldered their guns and grabbed Noctis by his arms and shoulders in painfully tight grips, far stronger than Noctis had anticipated them being. The MTs dragged Noctis forward, forcing him down into the chair. Noctis, of course, resisted, but given how ridiculously strong a single MT was, his own strength stood no chance against the strength of three, as two of them held his arms down and latched the cuffs on his wrist into place, and the third cuffed his ankles to the chair. The cuffs were uncomfortably tight, leaving Noctis little to no wriggle room, keeping his wrists firmly against the arms of the chair.

"Do you know what this is, your highness?" Ardyn asked from behind Noctis as he picked up the device from the table, waving the MTs aside. He flipped a switch on the machine, and with a few whirs and clicks, the tip of the tattoo gun-like rod slowly started to glow as it began to heat up. "it comes from one of our magitek production facilities— an early prototype of a machine we now use for mass production." He hummed slightly, taking slow, menacing steps forward and circling around Noctis in the chair. "I highly doubt you pay much attention, given how you and your little friends have taken a 'kill-on-sight' approach to— what was it you called them? MTs? But if you look closely, each and every one of our  _MTs_ has a barcode and a number imprinted upon their right wrist. This machine is used to imprint those  _permanent_ marks upon their wrists. At least, it was until we developed something more refined and suited for mass production. Not perfect, but for what you and I need it for _—_ it'll do the trick." With that, he set the machine down over Noctis's right wrist, so that the red-hot metal tip just barely hovered over Noctis's skin just below the metal cuff keeping him to the chair. Noctis could feel the heat radiating from the tip as Ardyn pressed a few buttons on the machine, thumb hovering over the switch to activate it. "This  _may_ hurt a little~" he cooed, and then without a moment hesitation, flipped the switch and stepped back. 

Nothing could have prepared Noctis for the pain as the hot metal touched his skin, letting out a sickening sizzling noise on contact. Noctis's entire body went rigid, muscles tightening as a constant, searing pain shot up his arm. Red hot needles began to repeatedly pierce into Noctis's skin— exactly as a tattoo gun would, and Noctis let out a sharp, strained cry of pain as he tried to fight back the urge to scream. The gun began to move across Noctis's skin, leaving seared black marks in its wake as it began tracing out the outlines of the barcode tattoo. 

Ardyn let out a pleased chuckle as he watched the Prince's face contort in agony, his breathing harsh and heavy as he gasped and let out sharp little groans and other sounds of torment. "Come now, Noctis," Ardyn hummed, his movements so smooth as he circled around the back of Noctis's chair, his hand tracing along Noctis's shoulders and back as he moved from one side to the other. "Don't hold back. Let me hear exactly how badly it hurts."

Tears pricked in Noctis's eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. He did  _everything_ in his power to fight them back, everything he could to keep from wailing, but it was so hard. The more time passed, the worse the pain got as the needles worked their ways across his wrist, tracing outlines and then filling them in as they go. He could feel the scorching needles hit his bones as they pierced his skin, the smell of burning flesh tainting the air. His fingers clenched and flexed, the constant strain of his muscles always flexing and never relaxing causing his already sore body to begin aching. His heart skipped beats, racing, pounding, and sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, there would be several moments where he couldn't breathe in or exhale. His cries and groans grew more frequent, a single, solitary tear rolling down his cheek as it finally became too much. The scream that tore past his throat was... chilling. No human should ever scream the way Noctis screamed, a booming laugh in Ardyn's chest as it was music to his ears.

It hurt. Gods damn it all, it hurt so badly, all Noctis could do was scream. His world threatened to fade to black, and in that moment, Noctis found himself wishing for death. The only solace he got were brief moments where the tip lifted itself from Noctis's skin and moved over a tad, where it would waste no time touching back down and reigniting the pain— this time worse than when it had lifted. 

After what felt like hours, the machine finally reached the end of the barcode, finishing the diamonds on either side, and imprinting Noctis's numbers into his skin:

03741221

The needle lifted, shutting off with a click. His body finally able to relax, Noctis's head slumped forward, taking in shaking, desperate gasps for air. His arm felt like it was on fire, the skin around the new tattoo swollen and reddened. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind, sweat rolling down his forehead as he slowly lifted his gaze to stare at the barcode— permanently imprinted in the Prince's skin.

"There, now... that's more like it, isn't it?" Ardyn asked, placing both of his hands on Noctis's shoulder, Noctis flinching at his touch. "The Lucian prince branded with the mark of the enemies that took down his beloved Crown City— the irony is almost poetic, wouldn't you say?"

Noctis didn't respond. All he could do was just... stare. A mixture of terror and horror crashed over the prince, a revelation of what this meant causing his trembling to worsen. Ardyn had just branded Noctis with the mark of the MTs— puppets at his command that mindlessly obeyed his every order and wrought unspoken tragedy and destruction.

was.. was that what Arydn's plans for Noctis were? To turn him into an MT, a puppet, a  _weapon_?

 _Oh Gods help him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NUMEROLOGY OF NOCT'S UNIT NUMBER  
> So it's not necessary to the story that you read this, but I am an absolute nerd and have done a ridiculous amount of research into pointless things, and Noctis's Unit Number, 03741221 took me forever to create because I decided to put my numerology knowledge to use and create that number BASED on numerology. But I know that a lot of people have no knowledge of numerology, and the chances of someone figuring out what these numbers mean and what they translate to are VERY slim, so to keep that effort from going to waste, I'm putting the meaning of each number and the whole string's translation in the notes. Granted, the numbers in numerology have many meanings and interpretations, there is no single set in stone meaning for each number, as all numbers have a variety of meanings, so these are based off of my knowledge and personal understanding of what the numbers represent. 
> 
> 0: all that is and all that can be, darkness, nothingness, the chaos of beginnings, the nothingness and darkness that came before light and life, and represents the totality of everything that can or could come from the darkness. "You start with none before you obtain one."  
> 3: often called the number of God, Trinities such as "The Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost", "birth, life, death", "the beginning, middle, and end", "body, soul, and mind/spirit", represents the light and everything spiritual: ie, the spirit, the soul, Heaven, deities. 3 days until Jesus resurrected, etc.  
> 7: said to be the "perfect number", a combination of the spiritual and the physical by being the number three of the heavens and the soul added to the number four of the earth and the body (getting to the number 4, there's a reason that 4 isn't before 7, which you'll see at the end), represents the whole of life and the universe, even theorized to be the number of the Universe because it appears in ALL the ancient texts and religions.  
> 4: represents the physical, the earth, the body, and humanity. Humanity could be considered the 4th member of the Holy Trinity as they are created in God's image and thereby an extension of the Trinity.  
> 12: 3 x 4, representative of the balance and careful harmony between the spiritual and the physical, represents order and balance, heart versus mind, space and time and the order of the universe. 12 months in a year, time is measured in clumps of 12 hours, 12 apostles, 12 animals in Chinese Zodiac, 12 has significant importance in the Book of Revelations, which is about the end of the world.  
> 21: 3 x 7, a combination of the holy and the spiritual with the perfect and the whole, represents absolute perfection, "perfection by excellence", represents the individual's impact on the whole, "all is one and one is all", also used to represent the death and rebirth of the world, the impact of life, the responsibilities of a single individual. the number 21 is used 7 times in the bible, 21 amino acids, which are essential to life, 21 represents life, death, and rebirth.
> 
> You probably noticed, but "light", "holiness", "death", and "life" repeat themselves in some way in virtually every number, and i'm sure it's not hard to see how each of these numbers ties back to Noctis's character and his story within the game. The Light of Providence, noctis's death bringing rebirth to the light and saving the end of the world, etc. But the numbers were put in a very specific order because in that order, each individual number's meaning in succession can be translated to tell Noctis's story.
> 
> so, 03741221 translates through numerology roughly as:
> 
> From the darkness (0) shines a holy light that through contact with divinity (3) achieves perfection and totality (7) and is embodied in the physical body of a single man (4). When the balance between light and darkness is disrupted and order falls apart, bringing upon the end of the world (12), a single individual uses this perfect and holy light, taking on the sole responsibility of sacrificing his life, dying so that the world may be reborn (21). 
> 
> Long story short: I put way too much effort into my writing. uwu


	3. No Use Bickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after the events in Altissia, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto, while in a hotel in Altissia, discuss what their next course of action should be to find Noctis. Frustrated with himself for failing to protect Noctis, the prospect of the Prince being in danger causes Ignis to lose his usually tight grip on his emotions.

I G N I S

* * *

_' Following the awakening of the Hydraean in Altissia, the nation of Accordo is hard at work with recovery efforts within the city. Donation stations have been set up throughout Accordo, as well as in select large cities or port towns within Lucis, any and all donations of money, food, blankets, and any other supplies are welcomed to aid in the recovery. Furthermore, both a website and a hotline have been set up for missing persons. Secretary Camelia Claustra issued the following statements regarding the missing persons sites:_

_"As a part of our recovery effort, we have an organization of soldiers and volunteers alike dedicated solely to the recovery of our people, searching for people who may be trapped or stranded in the wreckage, recovering the bodies of the fallen. Their primary concern is to return those who have been missing or separated back to their families and loved ones, whether alive or dead. I implore all of the citizens of Altissia, if you have been unable to locate or contact a loved one, to submit their name and description to the missing persons site, so that our team will be able to identify them should they be found."_

_"Many people are wondering, are these search parties also searching for the whereabouts, or at least clues to the whereabouts of the Oracle and the Prince?"_

_"Our main concern is our citizens. We have scoured the waters and the ruins surrounding the Altar with extreme diligence, overturned every stone and dug through every pile of rubble, and have yet to find anything on either. While our current search teams are told to be kept on the lookout, we no longer see reason to dedicate entire teams to the search of the Oracle or the Prince when several days have passed and nothing has been found, especially not when so many of our citizens are in need of help. Of course, that will change should any new developments come to light, and any plausible leads provided will be thoroughly investigated. We are just as concerned for their safety as the rest of the world, but it is my duty to put my citizens first. I pray for their safety and their well beings."_

_Seven days have passed since both the Oracle Lunafreya and the Crown Prince Noctis were declared missing, and not so much as a single clue or sighting has surfaced to provide answers as to their well beings and whereabouts. As each hour of silence passes, many are beginning to fear the worst for the Oracle and the King, and some have begun to hold mourning ceremonies in respect. Hope holds out that at the very least, their bodies will be found so that the world may be given closure to properly grieve their losses. In other news — '_

Ignis reached forward and shut the radio off, the silence that followed holding a somber air. 

"What lies," Prompto's despondent grumble broke the silence, rubbing his arms as he sat upon the hotel bed. "That secretary was lying through her teeth, not even a single search party was sent to the Altar." 

"And why would there be?" Gladio huffed, folding his arms as he leaned his back against the wall. "Noct isn't really missing, we know exactly what happened to him. There's no use in wasting man power searching the Altar for someone you know you won't find when you could be sending them to help other people."

"We may know what happened to Noctis, but the same cannot be said for the Oracle," Ignis pointed out. "if not for Noct, a team should have at least been sent to search for Lunafreya. But she didn't even do that much."

"As if that wasn't bad enough, she goes and lies to everyone and says they did," Prompto scowled, shaking his head almost angrily. 

"That's the nature of politics, I'm afraid," Ignis pushing his glasses up with a sigh, "You can never trust the word of a Politician, all they do is lie."

"So... should we go look for Luna, then? If the secretary isn't going to—" 

"We need to be concerned on figuring out where the Chancellor ran off to with Noctis," Ignis said firmly. "Noctis is  _always_ our priority, that's our jobs. You should know that by now."

"I know that! But Luna— she could be alive out there, she may need help, and she may even be able to help us find Noct—" Prompto protested, getting to his feet.

"Have you forgotten that I found the Ring at the Altar, Prompto?" Ignis snapped at him, immediately silencing the blonde. "She was entirely dedicated to her duty as Oracle and ensuring the Ring was delivered to Noctis, do you seriously think that if she was alive, it would be in our possession? That's the  _only_ way I would have found it on its own, Lady Lunafreya would have done everything in her power to ensure it was kept safe so long as she was alive, she  _certainly_ wouldn't have just left it."

"I—.." Prompto stammered, a frustrated expression crossing his freckled features.

Ignis let out a soft breath, suddenly feeling bad for snapping so harshly at Prompto. Prompto had done nothing wrong, Ignis shouldn't take out his anger and frustration with himself on the gunner. "I'm sorry. I want as much as you do for her to be alive, but we have to face the facts, searching for her is most likely a waste of our time, and the more time we waste, the less likely Noctis is to be alive next we see him." 

Prompto was silent for a moment, looking away with a clenched jaw. "So what do we do, then?

"We figure out where Noct is," Gladio answered.

"We know where he is. They've got him in Niflheim, no doubt." Ignis rested his hand on the table next to him, leaning on it slightly.

"Yeah, lotta good knowing that's gonna do for it, Niflheim ain't exactly small," Gladio gave a slight scoff.

"it's still a lead, Gladio," Ignis narrowed his gaze, his tone firm and pointed. "Narrowing it down to Niflheim from the entirety of the world is better than nothing." 

"Okay—" Prompto cut in before Gladio could speak, "so we figure out  _where_ exactly in Niflheim."

"Like trying to find a straw of hay in a stack of needles," a scowl crossed Gladio's lips. "It's not like we can just go in and start searching without calling attention to ourselves. We'd likely get ourselves killed before we ever even got close to Noctis."

"If that's what it takes to find Noctis—"

"That's  _suicide_ , Ignis!"

"So what if it is? We are sworn to protect Noctis with our lives. We should be more than willing to do whatever it takes to ensure his safety—"

"But killing ourselves does nothing to help us do that!" 

"ENOUGH!" Prompto yelled, stepping forward to stop the two from bickering any further. "You're both acting like  _dumbasses_!" Ignis and Gladio were stunned into silence, gazes staring at the blonde, who was glaring at the both of them. Seldom was  _Prompto_ ever the voice of reason in the group. Prompto's glare turned to Ignis, "Both of you are right and both of you are wrong. Charging headfirst into this and getting ourselves hurt or killed does nothing to help Noct, we have to devise a plan and narrow down his loction. Ignis, _you_ of all people should know that." Prompto then turned his glare to Gladio. "but if nothing else works and it comes down to it that picking apart Niflheim piece by piece is our only way to get to Noct, then so be it. That is what we swore our lives to." There was a pause, neither Ignis nor Gladio daring to say a word. Prompto gave a heavy sigh, looking away. "We're all frustrated, okay? We're all scared, we're all worried about Noct, and all of us probably blame ourselves in some way. But... we can't let those fears and frustrations stop us, we can't let them turn us against each other. Arguing like this and getting at each other's throats does nothing but hurt us  _and_ Noct. We need to keep our heads on our shoulders and work this through." 

Ignis gave a heavy sigh, looking away as a sense of shame washed over him. Prompto was right, they were fighting over nothing, and it was doing them no good. Just... Ignis was  _sick_ with worry. The idea that Noctis was in danger... that Noctis could be getting hurt right at that very moment was a terrifying feeling. Normally, Ignis kept himself in check, kept himself composed. He was supposed to be the level-headed one, but with Noctis in trouble, Ignis was seemingly coming unhinged. All composure he once had was falling apart, and that was affecting the way he acted and spoke. He probably wouldn't have even started that argument with Gladio otherwise.

"Prompto's right. I apologize." 

"yeah... I'm sorry too," Gladio glanced away, giving a heavy sigh. "So.. what's the plan?"

Prompto looked to Ignis, who paused. "we need to narrow down where in Niflheim they could be holding Noctis. I have a few ideas— likely somewhere in Gralea, but given that's the capitol, that won't make the search any easier with the level of security."

"Security level will be high no matter where they're keeping him."

"yes, but that security will be even higher in the capitol." 

"So how do we figure out for sure?" Prompto asked.

"if I recall correctly..." Ignis brought a hand to his chin, rubbing it slightly in thought, "there was an Imperial base in Leide that we failed to take down— one of the only ones left. Formouth Garrison."

"Are you suggesting we take it down?" Gladio asked.

"Doing that would be difficult without Noct's warping," Prompto pointed out.

"Difficult, yes, but not impossible," Ignis gave a slow nod. "if we can get in and take a general captive— only this time, interrogate him then and there, we may be able to narrow down Noctis's location." 

"Do you think any generals will even be there?"

"Given it's the only stronghold left in the region, I have no doubts that there will be at least one— perhaps Loqi, considering Ravus killed Caligo in the battle in Altissia." 

"And I guess that means once we capture him, we leave him to you?" Gladio turned to Ignis, who gave only a curt nod in response.

"Wait... why?" Prompto asked with a slight frown.

"Ignis is the Hand of the King," Gladio said to Prompto. "Unlike the Shield, the Hand isn't limited to just one duty. Yeah, he's the head advisor, does paperwork, helps keep the King on track, but there is a lot more to it than  _just_ paperwork and organization."

"Sometimes, there's... dirty work that must be done. Dark deeds need to be done for the sake of the King or his Kingdom. In those instances, the Hand of the King takes care of them, and often times pulls strings from the shadows," Ignis explained slowly, adjusting his gloves slightly as he spoke. "Running a Kingdom isn't always straightforward, there isn't always a clear right and wrong, and sometimes, things that may seem 'wrong' must be done. The Hand steps in and dirties his own hands so that the King's remain spotless." 

"That's... dark... and kinda scary," Prompto muttered. 

"Yeah, well working for a King ain't always as black and white as people like to make it seem," Gladio sighed. "So this means we're heading back to Lucis. I can call Cor— see if he can meet us in Hammerhead and help us take down the base. Prompto was right, without Noctis's warps, we'll need all the help we can get." 

Ignis nodded in agreement. "Very well... we should leave as soon as possible."

"We can head out in an hour? That'll give me time to call Cor and you guys time to get everything ready." 

"Sounds good to me," Prompto said as Ignis nodded. "And if we're ready earlier, we can leave earlier." 

"Alright," Gladio stood upright, pulling his phone from the pocket of his pants. "Let's get to it then." 

The three dispersed, each going about themselves to prepare for their journey back to Hammerhead. Ignis paused for a moment, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out the Ring of the Lucii, staring down at it in silence for a moment.

"Hang on, Noctis," Ignis whispered, fingers clenching around the Ring. "I'm coming." 


End file.
